Married to a Marine

by Cathie Linz

“Okay, then I agree to make dinner tomorrow night, as well. I’ll make vegetable lasagna. My specialty.”

  “How can you make something like that with what I have in the house?”

  “Because I brought the ingredients with me, a bottle of my homemade sauce, some cheese, some pasta. Lasagna is my comfort food. As good as chicken soup for whatever ails you.”

  “Sounds like you plan ahead.”

  “I try to. So what do you say?”

  “Make that a pledge to make dinner for the rest of the week and you’re on.”

  “Deal.” She nodded, her hair sliding off her bare shoulders and her question-mark jewelry clinking.

  “Your earrings are too noisy,” Justice noted.

  She rolled her eyes. “I don’t believe you. Fine, I’ll take off my earrings. But I’m not taking off anything else,” she warned him. “This isn’t strip Scrabble.”

  She gathered her hair up and tucked it under a denim baseball cap she’d just dug out of her backpack. Justice was still recovering his breath from eyeing her tempting backside and watching the way her cutoffs rode up the back of her thighs when she’d bent over her backpack.

  “You ready?” she asked in that perky voice of hers.

  He nodded, keeping his face impassive, and headed out the door with his fishing pole and gear in hand.

  Kelly followed him, very well aware that something was eating at him. She couldn’t believe his brooding mood was caused by him being a poor loser. She’d tried watching Justice’s face in an attempt to decipher his thoughts. She should have known it would be an impossible task. He had his warrior mask in place.

  But there was no denying the fire in his vivid blue eyes or the impatience emanating from his lean body. She might not know what was upsetting him, but something clearly was.

  He was wearing shorts and another one of Striker’s Hawaiian shirts. This morning the shorts were navy blue and the shirt orange and yellow. As she watched him walk down the sandy path, she told herself that her interest in him was purely professional. She wanted to confirm that he wasn’t limping from their workout yesterday. But her appreciation of his male form was purely feminine.

  She’d never been one to swoon over a guy’s anatomy, and while she certainly wasn’t swooning now over his, she was grinning in admiration at the way his shorts fit his buns of steel.

  Turning to look over his shoulder, he eyed her suspiciously. “What are you staring at?”

  She wondered what he’d say if she replied that she was staring at him and his buns. Unfortunately, she wasn’t bold enough to find out. Instead she said, “Your legs are healing nicely.”

  He nodded curtly and moved on, away from the ocean.

  “We’re surrounded by water, why are you heading inland to go fishing?” Kelly asked.

  She saw his shoulders heave in a sigh. “I knew you couldn’t be quiet.”

  “The bet only begins once we arrive at the fishing site.”

  “Striker told me about a good place, a stream inland.”

  “Is he a Marine, too?”

  Justice nodded.

  “Is everyone you know a Marine?”

  “Negative. I know a few squids, too.”

  Kelly frowned. “Squids?”

  “Navy personnel.”

  “What about civilians? Do you know many of them?”

  He turned and confronted her. “Why this interrogation about my private life?”

  She shrugged. “I was just making conversation.”

  “Well, don’t.” He started walking again. “The fish don’t like it.”

  She skipped to keep up with his long strides. “I’ve never gone fishing before. My dad used to promise me he’d take me with him when I was a kid, but my mother didn’t feel it was a proper pastime for a girl. How many people live on this island?” she asked as they eventually passed another house, the first she’d seen since leaving his beach house.

  “Not many. That’s why I came here.”

  He paused at a stand in front of the house, picked up a small box and stuffed some money in a glass jar there. “What’s that?”

  “Bait.”

  “They just sell bait out of their beach house?”

  “You’re just full of questions, aren’t you. Striker told me he gets bait here.”

  “There’s no store or town or anything?”

  “There’s a marina on the other side that has a couple of gas tanks and a small store for essential items.”

  “Really? Maybe we should check that out sometime.”

  “Why?” Justice asked.

  “For some interaction.”

  He turned to look at her, one of his dark eyebrows lifting over his intense blue eyes. “Getting tired of my company already?”

  “No, that’s not it.”

  “You didn’t run out of some kind of feminine thing, did you?”

  “No.” Kelly refused to blush. “I just thought it might be nice to look around while I was here.”

  “Why? It’s not like you’re on vacation.”

  “Actually I told my dad I was on vacation,” she admitted, “resting up at a friend’s beach house.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “I didn’t think he’d understand the truth.”

  Justice wasn’t sure he understood it, either. Sure, she’d claimed she’d come to repay a debt to his mom, because of a secret friendship they’d been carrying on over the years unbeknownst to him and apparently to anyone else. But was that really it? Or did Kelly have some kind of hidden agenda coming here?

  It was hard for him not to be suspicious of her motives. He was naturally suspicious of everyone. It went with the territory in his line of work. In Special Ops—Special Operations—your fellow Marines were your only friends, and everyone else had to be considered a foe. Infiltrating hostile territory to undertake covert activities meant that you always had to be on guard.

  The one time he’d relaxed his guard had been that fateful day outside Camp Lejeune when he’d been driving to meet friends and had seen the accident.

  He switched off those thoughts. There was no point in rehashing the past. He had to deal with the present.

  His Force Recon buddy Striker had understood Justice’s need to get away and had offered him the use of the beach house, no questions asked. Unlike Kelly, who was full of questions. She was asking them again now, this time about Striker.

  “Tell me more about your Marine buddy who owns the beach house.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’d like to learn more about him. Is he married?”

  That question threw him. “No.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that the beach house didn’t appear to have a woman’s touch, which made me think your friend was single. What’s he look like?”

  “Why? Did you want me to fix you up with him?”

  “I already told you that overbearing Marines aren’t my type.”

  “Maybe Striker is the one who could change your mind.”

  “Maybe he is,” she infuriated him by saying. “So what’s he look like?”

  “Dark hair, green eyes. The women all like him.”

  “Ah, a womanizer like your brothers, huh?”

  “Two of my brothers are hitched,” Justice reminded her. “Joe and Prudence are expecting their first baby later this year.”

  “So your mom told me.”

  “Right. You and my mom being so close.” His voice was clearly mocking.

  “You’re not still suspicious about that, are you?”

  “I’m suspicious about everything,” Justice replied.

  “But you trust this Striker friend of yours?”

  “With my life.”

  “Why? Because he’s a Marine like you?”

  “Because he’s proved his loyalty and because he doesn’t bombard me with questions.” Justice stepped up his pace.

  The trail wound through swaying
sawgrass and under ancient live oaks and tropical palmetto. It felt good to be out of the house and on the move.

  “Did you know that Spanish moss is actually part of the pineapple family?” Kelly said, pointing to the long festoons hanging from a nearby gnarled tree branch. “It actually draws all its nourishment from the air so it’s not a parasite and doesn’t kill trees.”

  She was doing it again. Talking. Showing him how smart she was, how uninformed he was. Do I look like the kind of guy who cares about Spanish moss? he wanted to growl at her, but didn’t. Because she was so endearing when she listed her bits of trivia.

  Endearing? Justice was sure this was a first. He’d never referred to a woman as endearing before. It was Kelly’s fault. Her use of words like trifling and trouncing made him think of endearing. Or maybe it was her light-up-the-sky smile and root-beer-Popsicle-brown eyes. He’d always been a sucker for root-beer Popsicles.

  Not that he intended on being a sucker for Kelly. No way, no how.

  Justice found the creek without any trouble ten minutes later. Discouraging Kelly from chatting cheerfully was not as easy. She looked as eager as a kid when he handed her the fishing reel to hold while he prepared the bait.

  That eagerness turned to dismay when she saw what he held in his hand.

  “That’s a worm.” She lifted her big soulful eyes to his. “You’re not going to put that sharp hook through that little worm, are you? That’s cruel. Can’t you use something else, like one of those feather thingies? I’ll bet the fish would like to bite on that more than this poor worm.”

  “You mean this poor worm?” He wiggled the worm in front of her nose. She didn’t flinch. Instead she touched his left hand and removed the worm from his clasp.

  His surprise wasn’t caused by her actions as much as it was by his own response to her touch. She’d touched him yesterday and he’d been fine.

  But that was before his stupid idea of strip Scrabble last night. Seeing her in that skimpy camisole had left an indelible mark on him, making him see her as a female and not simply as Barbie’s baby sister.

  In fact, there was nothing babyish about her. She was all woman. Shapely in all the right places. Much more curvaceous than her sister, who’d always prided herself on her thin body.

  “It’s all right, baby.”

  It took Justice a second to realize that Kelly was cooing to the stupid worm, not to him.

  “I won’t let him hurt you. There you go.” She carefully lowered the worm from her cupped hand to the ground, away from the path along the side of the creek. “You’re free now. Live long and prosper.”

  “You’re using Spock’s saying from Star Trek on a worm?”

  “Yes. Spock would never have picked on a poor defenseless worm.”

  “We’re going fishing here,” he reminded her. “That means catching fish.”

  “Yes, but you let them go as soon as you catch them, right?”

  “Wrong. What would be the point in that?”

  “I don’t know, but I read some article once in a magazine about fishing and it said they let them go.”

  “Trout fishing out west maybe. That’s not what we’re doing here.” It was actually doubtful he’d catch anything, given the fact that he had to use his left arm. He’d be lucky if he even got the line into the water. Obviously this hadn’t been one of his brighter ideas.

  “We’ve got enough food in the house for now, it’s not like you have to catch a fish or starve. You’re not on some deserted tropical island or anything.”

  “Don’t I wish,” Justice muttered. “We had a bet, remember?”

  “Right.” She gently dumped out the remaining worms from the box. “That I wouldn’t talk while you were fishing. But you’re not fishing yet. You’re still preparing to fish.”

  “No thanks to you, letting my bait loose.”

  “The rest of the worms had to join Fred.”

  “Fred?”

  “Fred the worm. They had to join him or they’d get lost and never find each other. You can’t separate a family like that.”

  Justice rolled his eyes. “They’re worms.”

  “That doesn’t mean they can’t have family ties.”

  “You are definitely going to lose this bet. I can taste that lasagna dinner tonight.”

  “Fine, then you don’t need to eat a fish tonight. My lasagna tastes better, anyway. Who knows where that fish you might have caught has been?”

  He stared at her in amazement. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Have you started fishing yet?”

  “Yes.”

  She watched as he awkwardly checked the feathered lure already on the fishing rod. The truth was he’d never been much of a fisherman and had only gone once or twice as a kid. He knew one end of the fishing pole from the other, but that was about the extent of his knowledge. Not that he was about to admit that to her.

  “Okay, then I’ll start talking now,” she announced.

  “Start talking? You haven’t stopped since we left the beach house.”

  “Did you know that they’ve done studies on how many words a man uses in a day and how many a woman uses, and women use a lot more?”

  “That’s a no-brainer. Any guy could have told the researchers that.”

  “The sexes just have completely different ways of communicating,” she said.

  The reality of her talking about sex made his body tighten. Erotic images flashed through his mind with rapid-fire intensity—Kelly naked, her wavy caramel hair tumbling down past her shoulders, the tips of her breasts peeking out from beneath the silky strands.

  “Here, hold this a second.” He shoved the fishing rod at her.

  “Isn’t the line supposed to be in the water?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can I do that?” she asked all eager-eyed again.

  “Sure. Go for it.” He made sure to step out of range as she enthusiastically cast her line into the water. Then he tried to look busy—not easy to do, given the fact that the only prop he had was the empty box he’d gotten the worms in. Striker had a fishing gear box but Justice had left it back at the beach house.

  It wasn’t as if he’d planned this fishing expedition. It had been a completely spur-of-the-moment thing. He couldn’t even lift a fishing pole with his right arm. How pitiful was that? He who carried grenade launchers over treacherous terrain.

  He tested his injured arm, trying to work through the pain. Sweat broke out on his forehead.

  “I’ve got something!” Kelly shrieked. “What do I do? Reel it in?” Next thing he knew, she’d reeled in a respectable-size fish. “Quick, let him loose. He can’t breathe out here in the air. Don’t hurt him.” She aimed the scaly thing at Justice, almost smacking him in the face with it. “Hurry, hurry. No, wait. That’s not good for your arm. I’ll do it. Tell me what to do.”

  “Just give me the fish,” Justice growled.

  She held back. “Only if you promise not to hurt him.”

  “Give me the fish.” He spaced the words out in a voice that made his newest recruits tremble.

  She wasn’t the least bit intimidated. “Do you promise not to hurt him?”

  “I promise. Now give me the damn fish.”

  “I thought Marines weren’t supposed to swear.”

  “They can do so in certain extenuating circumstances, and you are definitely an extenuating circumstance. There.” Justice released the fish, hiding a grimace as the movement aggravated his arm.

  She quickly took the fish from him and slid it back into the water. Turning to face him again, she grinned. “There now, wasn’t that fun?”

  “Are you asking me or the fish?”

  “You.”

  “Oh, yeah, that was a real barrel of laughs.” He said the words with wry humor.

  “Thank you for letting him go.” Kelly reached up to kiss his cheek just as Justice turned his head to reply. The end result was that her lips brushed his mouth.

  Instant electricity. Unimaginable po
wer. Sizzling heat.

  The contact annihilated all Kelly’s preconceived ideas of what a kiss could or should be like. She’d planned on a fleeting caress that was there, then gone. Instead she’d gotten more than she’d bargained for as his mouth consumed hers with unexpected passion.

  He tasted of coffee and sexy male. His lips moved against hers in a sensual interplay. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the moment—in his hunger, in her desire. The hot sun poured down on them, but it couldn’t compare to the fiery warmth uncoiling deep within her body.

  Kelly couldn’t believe this moment had come, that it wasn’t a dream. It was almost too good to be real. But nothing she could have dreamed would have prepared her for the most passionate kiss imaginable. She could feel her own heart beating out of control and was shaken to realize that his was beating equally strongly beneath her hands, which she’d placed on his chest in startled surprise at first but left them there with awed appreciation.

  His hand rested on her shoulder, heating her bare skin, each caressing fingertip stirring up a firestorm of temptation. He was holding her without embracing her, captivating her completely with the sheer force of his kiss.

  He drew her closer, shifting his hand to her neck where he cupped the curve of her jaw. He brushed his thumb against the outer corner of her mouth. She shivered with delight as he coaxed her lips to part. The kiss shifted to a new level of intimacy now, one that was dangerously seductive.

  What was she doing? The thought rose up and smacked her out of the romantic moment. What was she doing kissing Justice, letting him kiss her? This was exactly what she was supposed to avoid.

  She’d started this, she had to end it, before she melted into his arms and things got completely out of control. In the end they both pulled back at the same moment.

  Kelly pressed trembling fingers to her lips, as if to keep the memory of his kiss there forever.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, not even sure quite what it was she was apologizing for.

  “Forget it,” Justice said, his voice as curt and unemotional as ever. “It won’t happen again.”

  But Kelly knew she’d never forget their kiss, not if she lived to be 150.

  Chapter Six

  Unlike the walk out, the walk back to the beach house was accomplished in almost total silence.